


Of Balconies and Beans

by justtheonce



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, there's a cat and he's amazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-01-28 15:56:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12610216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justtheonce/pseuds/justtheonce
Summary: Beca's Sunday morning routine is interrupted by a suspicious noise. It is caused, of course, by Chloe Beale. And her cat.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So sometimes when I struggle with RtB, I open a new doc and just start typing literally any other shit I can think of. Sometimes I get a nice head of steam going on the random shit and it turns into a thing that further distracts me from RtB. Such is the case here. I am the worst.

On a sunny Sunday morning after a very successful, very late night spinning at a popular club downtown, Beca Mitchell dragged her sorry ass out of bed and fumbled with her coffee machine until it started dripping the nectar of the gods into the pot.

Then she leaned her elbows on the kitchen counter and stared at it until the pot contained enough coffee to fill a mug, which she did. Then she replaced the pot and shuffled to her living room with the life affirming gurgle of brewing coffee at her back.

She plopped down on the couch and sipped as much of the scalding liquid as she could without doing permanent damage to her esophagus, then set down the mug and picked up the TV remote. Before she could press the power button, she was startled into dropping it with an undignified clatter to the wooden surface of her coffee table by a very loud, very suspicious thump.

The thump came from beyond her sliding glass door, which concerned her (in a slightly distant, sleepily confused sort of way) not just because such a sound was unusual but because her sliding glass door opened onto her balcony, which was four stories up.

She made her way over with some semblance of speed and yanked back the curtains, wondering if she was about to see maybe Supergirl or something equally impossible. What she saw was a woman holding a small, fluffy black cat, which was possibly more bizarre than Supergirl would have been.

The woman had bright red hair and wide blue eyes. She was wearing a tank top and pajama pants above her bare feet. Oddly enough, she looked kind of like _she_ was the one who was surprised.

Ever the picture of eloquence, Beca slid open the door and said tiredly, “Where the fuck did you come from?”

“My cat,” the redhead said, clutching the furry creature with both arms and jerking her chin toward the next balcony over. “I let him out to enjoy the sunshine and he jumped over to your balcony. So I -- I had to come get him.”

The balconies were separated by about three feet off empty air. Beca wasn't sure which was more impressive -- that the scruffy little cat made the jump or that the woman did.

“I'm only halfway through my first cup of coffee and I can't actually process this,” Beca said. “So you should just, like, come in.”

“I don’t want to be a bother,” the woman said, turning her head uncertainly toward her own balcony. “I could just--”

“Sweet _christ_ , please don’t,” Beca said, stepping aside and waving her in.

“Thanks,” the woman said as she stepped inside.

Had she been more awake Beca would likely have had a panic attack about her state of dress, but as it was she simply didn't have the wherewithal to notice that she was wearing nothing but Spider-Man underwear and an extra large T-shirt, let alone be ashamed of it.

“No problem,” Beca replied as she bent to pick up her coffee mug. She took a sip as her foggy brain finally noticed that her bizarre, apparently acrobatic neighbor was actually pretty. Also pretty hot and heading quickly for the door.

“Thanks again,” she called over her shoulder as she threw the bolt and opened the door.

“Anytime,” Beca replied. Then she gave herself a nice facepalm and decided there was really no point in trying to rectify the statement, since she was half asleep and prone to saying stupid shit to pretty girls and anyway, said pretty girl was already out the door.

Beca settled back onto her couch, muttered “Well, that was something,” and picked up her remote.

She was startled into dropping it by a knock at the door.

She was not at all surprised, though, when she opened the door to find a redhead holding a small black cat.

“So, my door is locked,” she said, her chuckle bashful and her eyes hopeful.

“Of course it is,” Beca said, swinging the door wide and sweeping a hand toward her living room.

“I’m really sorry to be such a bother.”

“I’m Beca,” Beca replied. She unlocked her phone, found the number for building maintenance, and handed the device over.

“I’m Chloe. Thank you so much.”

Beca headed to the kitchen to top off her coffee and watched as Chloe used one hand to call and ask politely that someone let her into her apartment and used the other hand to clasp the now squirming cat against her chest.

“You can put it down,” Beca offered after Chloe had hung up.

“Thanks,” Chloe said, releasing her hold and allowing the energetic little beast to leap out of her arms. “His name’s Major. Short for Major Beans.”

Beca, having ingested enough caffeine that she was operating at at least sixty-five percent brain power, pulled a clean mug from the rack and waved it about. “Coffee?”

“Oh god, yes please,” Chloe said. She came into the kitchen and laid Beca’s phone on the island.

“So, that tiny cat,” Beca said, looking past Chloe to watch Major slowly pushing a coaster off the coffee table, “leapt all the way over to my balcony.”

“He’s a _very_ good jumper,” Chloe said proudly. “He’s still a kitten, really. Only six months old.”

“Yeah, OK, but then,” Beca said, as her brain function continued to improve, “then _you_ leapt across three feet of open air, _four stories up_ , instead of just walking over and knocking on my door?”

“I panicked,” Chloe said with a shrug, helping herself to sugar and creamer. “He’s my baby.”

“Huh,” Beca said. “Well, good job not dying.”

“Thanks,” Chloe said, flashing a big smile before bringing her mug to her lips.

Beca just nodded. She was kind of out of things to say, as small talk wasn’t her specialty.

“So, I’m not trying to tell you what to do in your own home or anything, and it's not that I mind at all,” Chloe said, “but are you aware that you aren’t wearing any pants?”

“I am now,” Beca said. She felt her face flush red and turned on her heel to head for her bedroom.

 

* * *

  

Chloe was hovering uncertainly near the kitchen island with the coffee mug in her hands when Beca returned wearing sweatpants. She’d briefly considered changing into a better fitting t-shirt, but decided that would only make it look like she was trying to make a good impression on the clearly insane woman who lived next door.

The whole awkward situation was temporary anyway. As soon as maintenance showed up to unlock Chloe’s door, she’d go home and they’d just return to being strangers who never saw or spoke to one another. For Beca, this was ideal. The fewer chances she had to humiliate herself in front of criminally beautiful women, the better.

“They said they’d send someone as soon as possible,” Chloe offered as Beca sank back onto her couch. Major immediately jumped into her lap and sat on her knees. They stared each other in the eye. Beca was doing it mostly to avoid looking at Chloe. She didn’t know what the cat’s motivation was.

“He’s friendly,” Beca observed. Major meowed and started rubbing his head against Beca’s chin. She didn’t recoil, but she didn’t start petting him or anything, either.

“He really likes you,” Chloe said. She walked over and settled herself into the opposite corner of the couch.

“He has low standards,” Beca said, and Major draped himself across her torso and tucked his face into the crook of her neck, purring like mad.

“Hey! He just appreciates that you saved us.”

“He’s a cat.”

“He’s smarter than you think,” Chloe countered.

“He jumped off a balcony,” Beca said. She’d started stroking his fur at some point, she realized.

“So did I.”

Beca turned to stare at her. Chloe stared back. “Did you think at all before you did that, about like, I don’t know, _falling_?”

“No,” Chloe said. “I just climbed onto the railing and jumped.”

“You’re the scariest person I’ve ever met.”

“Thanks,” Chloe said, smiling.

Beca blinked a few times and said, “Do you mind if I turn on the TV?”

Chloe laughed. It was a sparkly thing, that laugh, and Beca smiled before she could stop herself. “This is your place, Becs,” Chloe finally said. “You don’t need my permission.”

“Right.” Beca executed a complicated maneuver in order to reach the remote without disturbing Major. He responded to her thoughtfulness by climbing all over her body a few times before ultimately curling into a warm, fluffy ball in her lap.

“Aww, you’re both so smol,” Chloe said. She ignored Beca’s scoff and asked, “What are we watching?”

“Killjoys.”

“Killjoys?”

“Yeah, it’s uh, about this chick and her two friends and they’re, like, bounty hunters, sort of? In space. Sort of.” Beca furrowed her brows. “It’s better than I make it sound. It has really excellent swearing.”

“Who needs plot when you have excellent swearing?” Chloe teased.

“It also has -- you know what, nevermind.”

“I was serious!”

“Yeah, OK,” Beca huffed.

“OK, I was teasing you a little,” Chloe said. “I do enjoy creative cursing, though.”

“You should try Killjoys, then,” Beca said.

“I will,” Chloe said. After watching Beca stare, unmoving, at the TV a for a few seconds, she added, “Press buttons. Make the show go.”

“No,” Beca said as she exited her DVR menu. “It’s just, it’s on the third season and a lot of shit has gone down, you know? I don’t wanna ruin it. You should start from the beginning.”

“Yeah,” Chloe said thoughtfully. “I guess so.”

“I’m sure there’s something else on.”

Beca was still flipping through channels five minutes later when there was a knock on the door. She felt slightly proud that she didn’t drop the remote this time.

Chloe collected her kitten and headed for the door, thanking Beca yet again. Beca trailed along after her and awkwardly accepted a one armed hug before closing her door and leaning against it for a moment.

She blew out a breath and then made her way to the kitchen, where she refilled her mug before returning to her couch and finally starting the show she’d had on her DVR since Friday.

She played it twice, since she wasn’t really paying attention the first time through due to repeated daydreams about incredibly attractive neighbors and fluffy kittens, which was embarrassing and something she would never admit to another living being, ever.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains Killjoys spoilers. If you have not seen Killjoys through season three and dislike spoilers, don't read this.

After a week of constant vigilance, during which she refused to examine whether she was afraid of or hoping to run into Chloe, Beca Mitchell dragged her sorry ass out of bed and made coffee. Armed with a steaming cup of caffeinated goodness, she settled into her couch and spent a minute thinking about what she might say if she actually  _ did  _ see Chloe (which she had not, even one time, all week).  

She’d really thought the events of the previous Sunday morning would just wind up being another funny anecdote she could share with the three whole people in her life she considered to be friends, a good story to tell over beers at happy hour. She’d start off with something like ‘You bastards will never believe what happened to me,’ leave out the bits about her neighbor’s attractiveness, avoid admitting she found the cat mind-numbingly adorable, and everyone would have a good chuckle and move on with their lives.

Only she never did tell them the story; not at the bar on Wednesday, not at lunch on Friday, not at the club Saturday night. She replayed it over and over in her head with embarrassing frequency, but she didn’t say a word out loud. She hoarded the memory like a treasure she didn’t want to share. She thought about Chloe’s startlingly blue eyes, infectious grin, and easy manner. She even thought about how cute Major’s tiny face was and how soft his fur was, and even how nice his purring felt against her lap.

It was fucking pathetic how much she thought about them.

Beca sipped coffee while she invented (and then rejected) several scenarios in which she might work up the guts to just go knock on the door and ask Chloe to dinner, or drinks, or literally anything. She spent a few brief moments admitting and accepting that she was too much of a wuss to do any such thing, then cued up the latest episode of Killjoys and pressed play.

There was a knock at her door before she’d even gotten through the ‘previously on’ clips, so she pressed pause, checked to make sure she was wearing pants, and shuffled over to answer it. She was not expecting that when she swung the door open she’d find a redhead in pajama bottoms and a tank top holding a small and fluffy black cat, but it didn’t exactly surprise her, either.

Instead of wasting time, energy, and dignity trying to come up with something clever, she just leaned on the door frame said, “Hi, guys. What’s up?”

Chloe smiled brightly and used her grip on the cat’s front leg to wave its paw at Beca as she said, “Major and I would like to invite you to our place to eat breakfast and watch Killjoys.”

“Um, like, now?”

“Yeah,” Chloe said with a giggle. Major meowed pointedly at Beca, and she obediently raised a hand to stroke his little head. “We’re all caught up,” Chloe added.

“What?”

“On Killjoys,” Chloe explained. “We watched it all this week. You were right, it has  _ great  _ swearing. So?”

Beca looked up from the cat, blinked at the brightness of Chloe’s smile, and said, “So, what?”

“So, do you want to come over?” Chloe’s smile began to falter slightly, as if she was beginning to think this had been a terrible idea. “There’s coffee.” 

Beca would have very much liked to give the matter some thought before deciding, but the facts were that she wasn’t all that good at thinking before having had at least one cup of coffee and that Chloe’s fading hopefulness was causing her a great deal of distress. It was also unhelpful that Major had begun swiping slowly through the air in her general direction as if he wanted either her attention or to scratch the shit out of her. 

“OK,” she said.

“Great!” Chloe said, and the return of her immensely cheerful grin struck Beca with the force of a thousand suns.

Chloe waited at the door, halfway in and holding it open with one hip, as Beca went to grab her phone and keys. 

“Major’s  _ super  _ excited,” she said when Beca returned. The ball of fur was squirming and purring so loudly Beca could hear him once she got within three feet.

“Aren’t we all?” she muttered as they stepped into the hallway and she turned back to lock the door.

“I’m excited, too,” Chloe said. She held Major away from her body as soon as Beca turned around, and he made the short jump from her arms to Beca’s shoulder, then draped himself across the back of her neck. “Aw,” Chloe crooned. “He likes you  _ so  _ much.”

Beca didn’t say anything, choosing instead to concentrate on leaning forward a bit as she followed Chloe to her door, afraid of letting the cat slide off. She could feel his purring against the back of her neck, which was nice, but she couldn’t help thinking about just how badly she’d be injured if he lost his balance and sunk his claws into her flesh.

“It’s really sweet that you’re being so careful with him,” Chloe said once they were inside. “But he won’t hurt himself if he falls off. Cats land on their feet, you know.” She winked and headed for her kitchen.

“I’m more worried about the scratching,” Beca said as she followed slowly. 

“Oh, I clip his nails,” Chloe said. “He’ll try to grab on, but he’ll slip right off.”

Beca, having reached the kitchen and found that Chloe had already poured a mug of coffee for her, straightened up and let Major slide off. He scrabbled at her back and shoulders, to no avail, and landed with a soft thump on his feet. Beca chuckled and he scampered off to do very important cat things. Beca focused her attention on very important Beca things, such as fixing her coffee and reminding herself not to say anything stupid.

“Do you like waffles?” Chloe asked.

“Yes,” Beca replied. She leaned against the counter near the refrigerator, clutching her mug in both hands.

“Oh good, because that’s what you’re getting!” Chloe said, already pouring batter into a waffle iron.

“What if I’d said no?” Beca asked.

“Who says no to waffles?”

“No, I mean, you like -- you made the batter and a whole pot of coffee like you knew you were gonna be feeding more than one person, but like, what if I’d said no?”

“You didn’t.”

“But what if I had?”

Chloe shrugged and set a timer on her phone before picking up her own mug and turning to face Beca. “Didn’t really think about it.”

“Do you ever think things through?”

“I try not to,” Chloe said. “It’s too easy to talk yourself out of things that way, you know?”

 

* * *

 

The waffles were blueberry, and Beca kept her face stuffed full of them as much as possible. This was partially because it was hard to put her foot in her mouth when it was already full, but also because they were fucking awesome.

“These,” she said at one point, waving her fork over her plate, “are fucking awesome.”

“Thanks,” Chloe said with a little smile. She, unlike Beca, had zero syrup smeared on her face.

Major sat under the table, meowing every so often just to remind them that he was still there and still wanted whatever they were eating.

“Sorry about him,” Chloe said. “In case you hadn’t guessed, he’s the reason we aren’t eating on the couch.”

“I thought it was because you were afraid  _ I’d  _ make a mess,” Beca said, fully aware that she, given half a chance, would absolutely trip on nothing and deposit her plate face down on Chloe’s perfectly nice furniture.

Chloe giggled. “No, silly. It’s because Major will climb all over us, get syrup in his fur, and spread it all over the place.”

“Why do I feel like you know this because it’s already happened?”

“Because it has.”

“So you’re saying he’s a little monster?” Bec asked.

“He’s my precious,  _ perfect  _ little monster,” Chloe corrected, pointing her fork at Beca’s face. Either she was faking the stern expression or it was one she wasn’t familiar with using. It was adorable, really.

“Duly noted,” Beca said, nodding and trying to look very serious.

Chloe’s face changed back to that easy, vaguely cheerful expression that seemed to be her default, and she grinned.

Beca grinned back, utterly helpless.

 

* * *

 

 

“So, who’s your favorite?” Chloe asked, once they’d settled onto the couch and she had, to Beca’s absolute terror, spread a single, solitary blanket across both their laps.

“Um, favorite what?” Beca asked, because stalling was, in her opinion, always a good way to mitigate the mind altering effects of being trapped under a blanket with a pretty girl who was asking questions.

“Killjoy,” Chloe said. “Well, favorite character. Doesn’t have to be a Killjoy.”

“Uh,” Beca said. “I don’t know, Johnny’s probably the funniest.”

“I like Kendry,” Chloe said simply.

“Kendry?” Beca asked, incredulous. “She’s the  _ bad  _ guy.”

“I know, but I like her style.”

“Her style is to be evil without any redeeming qualities. She doesn’t even have a tragic backstory, so you can’t even look at her and go, ‘OK, well, I can see why she turned out evil.’”

“She has  _ no  _ back story,” Chloe corrected her. “We don’t know why she’s like that or what motivates her. I bet she has a sad and tragic past.”

“ _ Power _ motivates her,” Beca argued. “She wants power and she has  _ zero  _ scruples and she will do  _ anything _ . She’s the worst.”

“I still like her.”

“She fucking killed Pawter!”

“Ah,” Chloe said softly, as if she’d just discovered a sad and inevitable truth. “You’re still mad about Pawter.”

“Pawter was  _ awesome _ ,” Beca said. She started to cross her arms, realized she was still holding her coffee mug, and wound up just kind of flailing in slow motion. “And she was a good person. How can you  _ not  _ still be mad about Pawter?”

“I know, right?” Chloe exclaimed. “How do they do it?”

“How does who do what?”

“How do they make this show? I was devastated when Kendry killed Pawter, but I was still kinda sad when Johnny shot her. I figured there wasn’t really anything else they could do with her, though. I didn’t think she’d be back this season because I didn’t see how they could redeem her.”

“And they didn’t,” Beca said. “They did  _ not  _ redeem her. In fact, she went from being an occasionally useful but untrustworthy and self-serving bitch to Hullen Queen Number Two.”

“I know, right? I love their love!”

“Oh my god,” Beca said. “Do you really think those assholes are capable of love?”

“Yes! Look, I’m not saying I’m rooting for Kendry and Aneela to  _ win  _ or anything, I mean obviously they’re the bad guys, but I just want them to like, fly off somewhere else and live happily ever after.”

“You are terrifying.”

Chloe just smiled and leaned forward to retrieve the remote from the coffee table. Elsewhere in the apartment, Major batted a jingle ball across the floor. 

 

* * *

 

 

As the end of the episode neared, Beca began to panic. She felt certain Chloe would want to talk about it, and it would quickly become apparent to her that Beca had not been paying attention. She also felt pretty confident that ‘but you were touching me’ was not going to sound like a very good excuse.

The trouble, though, was that Chloe was touching her. Beca thought it was terribly goddamn unfair that she might be expected to pay attention to anything else in the universe when Chloe’s upper arm was resting against her own and Chloe’s thigh was actually touching hers. These were facts, and they were problematic in and of themselves, but they also gave Beca the opportunity to completely overthink them and as such she simply wasn’t able to pay attention to a TV show. Even if it was her favorite.

While Dutch and company were doing whatever the hell it was they’d done this time, Beca was wondering if Chloe’s proximity was just a thing straight girls did or if there might be any possible way that it could maybe mean Chloe could ever in a million years be slightly interested in Beca. She was wondering if the fact that Chloe had placed herself on Beca’s right was random or if she’d done it purposely after noticing that Beca was left handed or if it was just that Chloe herself was right handed. 

She imagined all the terrible things that might happen if she were to move her own right hand a few inches until it was still technically resting on her own leg but also slightly against Chloe’s, and also gave a bit of thought to what she might think about next if she had somehow found the courage to move her hand in the first place. 

She thought about what possible reactions Chloe might have if Beca actually found the courage to ask her out on a date, but that didn’t take long because she figured a gentle let down might be the only way Chloe knew how to handle such a thing.

And, more than anything else really, she thought about kissing Chloe. She thought about it the way one thinks about what they’d do if they won the lottery, at first -- dreams about what life would be like in a world where she was the recipient of such a massive stroke of luck. Then she realized that one can’t win if one doesn’t play, as they say, and she’d then spent a lot of time and brain function imagining all the ways she might go about trying such a thing and all the probable and improbable results of such an endeavor. She decided being physically thrown out amidst a storm of shouting was a lot less likely than a quickly turned head and a polite ‘thanks but no thanks,’ which was too bad because Beca would honestly prefer violence to pity.

The ending was probably great, Beca thought, because Chloe’s eyes were wide and so was her grin, but Beca herself had no idea because she was looking at the side of Chloe’s head instead of the TV. This was why, when Chloe turned to say “Wow,” she said it right to Beca’s face.

“Wow,” Beca echoed, for reasons she assumed were entirely different than Chloe’s.

“What did you think?”

Beca mentally recapped all the things she’d thought about during the show and knew that none of those things were the kind of answer Chloe was looking for. She had nothing else, though, and panic began to build inside her.

“Are you OK?” Chloe asked, and Beca knew she’d failed miserably at keeping the fear off her face.

“Yeah, I’m--” she started, but then she stopped because Chloe looked rather concerned and Beca was not OK and was pretty sure she couldn’t lie to her, convincingly or otherwise. She was also pretty sure she was about to make a huge mistake, but for once in her pathetic life she really felt like the massive risk in front of her was absolutely worth taking, so she herded all the terrible outcomes she’d imagined into a dark corner of her brain -- where they proceeded to heckle her loudly and without mercy -- and said, “Honestly, I wasn’t watching at all.”

“Why not?”

“I was coming to the realization that failure might be better than being a coward,” Beca said.

“I don’t understand,” Chloe said quietly.

Beca figured Chloe wouldn’t understand even if Beca explained it, so she took a deep, not at all steadying breath, and kissed her.

Chloe kissed her back for a few seconds, then pulled away just far enough to ask, “Did you think about how that could have gone wrong before you did it ?”

“Every conceivable way.”

“But you did it anyway.”

“Apparently.”

Proximity prevented Beca from seeing Chloe’s smile, but it enabled her to feel it against her own lips, which spread into a stupid grin without her permission. She laughed, and Chloe laughed, and then there was more kissing until Major appeared on the back of the couch and meowed while he butted his head against their joined faces.

“Major’s impressed by your courage,” Chloe said.

“Are you sure? I thought he was saying we should replay that episode because he missed it the first time,” Beca said.

“So you're actually gonna watch it this time?”

“Hell no, Major’s going to watch it,” Beca said. She picked up the remote, pressed the required buttons, and tossed it away again. “I’m going to make out with you.”

“I like this plan,” Chloe said, lying back and pulling Beca along by her shirt.

 

* * *

 

Major hopped onto the coffee table, sat with his tail wrapped around himself, and watched his humans. He purred loudly because they seemed happy. They did not notice him, but it was OK. They would notice him soon, certainly. 

If not, he had ways to get their attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this trash.

**Author's Note:**

> This story was born after someone reminded me of the time we bet some guy a beer he couldn't jump from his balcony to ours, and he did it. It is also inspired by my new kitten.


End file.
